They Threw Red Roses At Her Feet
by misswhiteblack
Summary: She use to be so strong but now she is terrified even of him ... what is the past that haunts her? R


'_Did you hear about her over there?'_

'_Where?'_

'_There. You know Kerrys Black.'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_Did you hear in the papers about her?'_

'_Yeah is that today?'_

Ignore the whispers it's the best thing you can do had been the advice given to her. Ignore them. They don't exist if you don't let them bother. She supposed it was sound advice since the person who had told her had had first hand experience. Yet she was still shaking trying to ignore the whispers. She wasn't all that strong yet and she was still regaining her confidence. It had been several months before she had had the courage to step out of her home and into the streets. Yet even now she still felt shaky when people recognised her. Once when she was younger she wouldn't have paid attention to the whispers maybe she wouldn't have even noticed them but now … now she heard every word acute in her ear as though someone was saying it directly to her. She could hear the gasps as she was recognised and she wished that she could disguise herself. Her magic however was still weak due to what had happened to her. Slowly she was regaining control of it but she still wasn't completely in control. She didn't think she would ever completely regain her skill in the art of casting magic. Once she had been one of the best aurors in the world and now she as a nervous wreck always looking over her shoulder, always terrified in large crowds, never wanting to be alone but mainly terrified of men.

Men. She could see the hurt in their eyes when she shrunk from them. Her best friends were two of them male and she could see how upset they were when she flinched and cowered away. She couldn't help it. If either of them touched her she automatically shrunk away. It was worse however if they touched her bare skin for then she would have flash backs of her ordeal. She didn't show skin very often anymore. She covered herself up hoping to shield herself from prying eyes. Yet no matter where she went men looked at her because she was beautiful. The long silky black hair, the pale skin, the curved lips and the striking emerald eyes all made her an object of prey to men, which was always the last thing she wanted. If men didn't stare they wouldn't have noticed who she was and that was when the whispers started. She could hear them, low hushed voices no matter where she was. Even faces half hidden in shadows had voices to speak in low tones about her. She no longer went out at night and she often shied away from places where a lot of people could be found. Once she had been a wild child, a brilliant auror, an amazing quiditch player and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Now she was struggling to piece her life back together.

She walked quickly through the semi-quiet street of Diagon Alley hoping to avoid the gaze of too many. She had heard enough already to remind her. She walked her black cloak covering her, the hood shadowing her face. She was alone, even in the crowd she was alone, and nobody could touch her soul. She was late. She was supposed to be meeting her three best friends who had helped her through the ordeal. She had grown use to them being around and she slow overcame her fear of all men and of crowds. She still feared crowds if they were too large and she could no longer read the Daily Prophet terrified of what might be written in it. Yet one thing that brought back the memories flooding to her brain, something that still terrified her, something hat had never faded.

Red Roses.

'_Buy a pretty rose, dearie.'_

The red rose was before her eyes being waved in front of them by a bent old witch with cracked teeth and cracked nails. She felt faint. She was screaming and all of a sudden she was plunged into memories. Her own blood covered hands loomed before her eyes, she could feel their fingers on her skin, she could hear their excited voices in the dark, she could feel the hard floor beneath her, she could taste the metallically blood, she could see the hands dark against her pale skin, she could smell the sweat and she could feel the bruises, the scars inflicted upon her person. She could hear herself crying, shouting aloud, she could see herself trying to fight back, she could feel the despair that worked itself through her body and she could feel the tears sting her cheeks as though they were acid. She could hear herself pleading with them to kill her and then she felt the shame that had seeped through.

She could feel the cold ground. Her eyes flickered open to see the cobbled ground. She could feel hands upon her. She screamed quickly sitting up and lashing out before grabbing her wand. She immediately spat out the first curse that came to mind. Another familiar voice shouted _"protego" _and the curse bounced off the shield and broke a window not that far away. She looked up into almond shaped, emerald eyes below black messy hair and lighting bolt shaped scar. Harry Potter, her best friend, looked down at her worriedly.

'Kerr,' he dropped to his knees. 'Get up darling. Let's get you to the flat.'

She put her wand away and allowed him to pick her up from the ground. She flinched at his first grip of her arm and she saw Harry bite his lip in order not to look upset. She stumbled after him as he led her up towards his own flat above a boarded up old shop. She nearly tripped up the stairs but he caught her just in time and led her into his flat. She had been there so often before and as soon as she reached it Harry made her lie down on the beautiful leather couch. Kerr only glimpsed Ron and Hermione appearing from the kitchen before she closed her eyes. Her memory cast back to the whispers of the day. She tried so hard to ignore them but it wasn't that easy. Her ordeal had put her through so much and she still carried the scars and always would. The scars that disfigured her back and her left arm were a constant reminder of what had happened to her.

At the end of the last war many Death Eaters had gone into hiding and many friends, members of the Order were dead. Harry, Ron and Hermione had survived and so had she but differently. Kidnapped at the end of the Last Battle she spent two years in torment, in the company of lusting Death Eaters. She was surprised that she had survived two years in that sort of way but she had. Even though living in the dark dank room of the Death Eaters hide out and occasionally being given food and water she had lost all sense of time. She had lost all sense of self and she had lost all hope of escaping or being rescued. She had been there plaything, something to amuse them and at first when they had come for her she had fought them off but soon she realised that they would take her even if she fought them. She was raped by more than five different Death Eaters whilst she had been their captive and sometimes she would be left alone for what seemed ages and then the attacks would come all at once. She was eventually rescued and Harry had been one of the aurors would had discovered the hideout. Kerr could still remember his reaction.

_There was a lot commotion going on outside the great door that separated her from the rest of the house. The room felt cold and she shuddered in the corner as she could hear voices that weren't familiar to her shouting spells, curses and jinxes. Her magic had long been out of use but she still remembered what each spell did. Suddenly there was a hush over the house and she knew that all the Death Eaters had been killed. There were movements of people raking through the house and suddenly there was a voice outside her door. She pressed herself right into the shadows and then the door burst open with a bang. Light poured in and she flinched at the sight of it. A tall figure stood outlined in the light holding his wand aloft so as to see her curled up in the corner. She remembered him shouting for the others and suddenly she was surrounded by aurors. Her skin was stained with muck and blood. Her hair was a wild tangle, her nails were bitten down to the skin and filthy. She tried to cover herself but the cloth she used for clothes didn't even make her half modest. One of the aurors got closer holding his wand higher to see her. _

'_Do you think she's a muggle?' came the question as the auror got closer to her._

_She shrunk back whimpering. She didn't want him to come near her. She was bleeding slightly from her lip but she didn't care. She had lost so much blood over time that she no longer remembered how it felt to bleed. She just didn't want him to touch her. She was filthy and she felt it. She felt shame deep in the pit of her stomach. She felt unclean in the sight of the aurors that towered above her and suddenly she realised that tears were stinging her cheeks. She felt sick._

'_No,' came the voice of the man nearest her. 'She is a witch. I won't harm you, I promise.'_

_She whimpered and pressed herself back. He touched her and she shuddered violently making him retracted his hand quickly. It surprised her. She had been so use to being ignored when she was obviously distressed that his care surprised her. She turned her face to look into dark emerald eyes that were extremely familiar and then a gasp was uttered from his mouth. He was staring at her in shock and horror._

'_Kerr.'_

He hadn't been able to accept what had happened to her for a while just as she hadn't been able to accept it. It had been two more years after her had rescued her that she had finally been able to leave her home. She had learned to try and get her life back but she was still picking up the pieces, still trying to forget what had happened.

She opened her eyes and sat up slowly. Harry set himself down beside her giving her hand a quick squeeze before handing her a large bunch of white roses. She smiled slight and set them on the table.

'Shall we?' she whispered.

He watched her walk towards him hanging shyly on Harry's arm. Her black hair was beautiful and her eyes sparkled. She looked beautiful and although he too had heard the whispers earlier in the day he was not bothered. He had heard the things that people had said of her but he didn't care. She was his angel and she was beautiful. It had taken him so long to get her to trust him, to like him, to let him touch her but eventually she warmed up to him. He knew that tonight would be one of the scariest nights of her life but he was prepared to be gentle, to wait if need be because he loved her. He loved her with all his heart. He could remember the first time he saw her smile because of some joke he had cracked and he remembered the first time she had laughed. He loved her with all his heart. He had been there when they had found her hidden in the depths of the Death Eater hideout and he shuddered at the memory. He had opened the door to find her curled up in the corner. He hadn't recognised her. It wasn't until Harry had told him who it was had he recognised those eyes. She had been through something dreadful but here she was walking towards him a soft smile on her face. She reminded him of herself many years before when he had first met her. He would help her become that witch once again. In time she would be that witch once again.

As she came to stand beside him she allowed him to take her hand. He could feel she was shaking but he didn't mind. He knew she was scared but he was there. He would always be there for her. For better or for worse. She was his angel. She looked every bit the part standing there in her beautiful White dress the veil over her eyes. He didn't care what people said about white standing for purity and that she was by no means pure. To him she was the purest being on the planet. To him she was an angel. He could feel tears pricking behind his eyes but he stood strong facing the priest holding her hand tightly as though to tell her he would never let go.

'Do you George Frank Weasley take this woman in holy matrimony for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer as long you both shall live?'

'I do,' he whispered and her face lit up.


End file.
